


For the moon and the stars

by s_a_b_i_n_e



Series: Destiel Oneshots (smut-free) [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:07:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29042862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_a_b_i_n_e/pseuds/s_a_b_i_n_e
Summary: "I miss nighttime," Dean murmurs, not sure if the angel can hear him, but Castiel raises a questioning eyebrow."Why?" he asks softly, fixing his tender gaze on Dean's eyes. Warmth travels through the ex-hunter and he has to look back at the sky above him that turned azure in the meantime."I wanna hear the silence. I miss watching the night sky, the moon. I wanna see the sun go down behind the mountains and feel the sand under my feet when it rises again." (...)"I will fix it for you, Dean," Castiel promises.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Destiel Oneshots (smut-free) [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022302
Comments: 4
Kudos: 54





	For the moon and the stars

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this tweet](https://twitter.com/fallenatic841/status/1349738296415571968?s=19).

The sky is dusted in pink and blue and dabbed with little cotton-wool clouds. It looks like the early morning sun is shining down on the meadow around them.

Dean is lying in the knee-high grass and Castiel sits next to him watching the busy bees that are flying around them as if there was a reason to collect nectar and make honey. It's heaven. There is no need for that. Everything one might need is available with a single intent thought.

Dean smiles softly. He's pretty sure it wasn't Jack who brought them here, or the birds that are singing in the background, or the squirrel climbing up the old looking oak tree over there.

Dean knows how much Castiel adored the little things that made Chuck's creation beautiful. The butterflies, the silence by night, ...

Silence. Dean can't remember true silence. Did he ever encounter it? He remembers the snoring of Sammy in shitty motel rooms, the buzzing of the a/c in the bunker, and his own broken sobs when he sat on the cold floor after the Empty had taken Cass away.

He remembers the clinking of tumblers filled with whiskey and the sound of their breathing, even the silence of shared thoughts was loud in its heaviness. 

No, Dean doesn't know silence. He doesn't know calm. Even here in heaven. It's not loud like New York or the noises of a fight. It's peaceful. But there is no pause. There is no need for sleep, no exhaustion after a hunt, but also not the rush of endorphins when one ended well.

He isn't tired. Nobody ever is in heaven. But he longs for sleep. He longs for curling up in bed, a warm body in his arms, for freezing feet that send a bolt through him, and the chuckles one shares before you say, "Let me warm them."

He misses falling asleep with someone in his arms and waking up in theirs, bed head, morning breath, and all.

He would lie if he said he didn’t know who he wanted this someone to be. He's done lying to himself and to the man he loves. It's lying if you hold back the truth, isn't it?

He turns his eyes from the ever, and still never changing sky to the one who is really his sun. To the one, he felt drawn to the second Bobby mentioned him at the roadhouse. The one he prayed to as soon as he hit Baby's gas pedal.

It's been hours or years since he met Sammy on the bridge. Time is strange here. Still, 'today' he felt a pull in his chest. He walked out of his house and sank into Baby's driver's seat. He drove until his instincts told him to stop at the roadside.

He was drawn to the flower dabbed pasture and as soon as he saw the telltale sight of a tan trenchcoat he knew what had brought him here.

"Hello, Dean," the angel said and fuck, was it good to hear his voice.

"Hiya, Cass," he answered like a thousand times before. But this time felt different.

They just stood there for a long while, smiling at each other in a way that warmed both their hearts. They were fine. They were alive - kind of. They were together. There were no words that needed to be spoken out loud.

At some point Dean sat down and leant back into the soft grass. Castiel joined him on the ground but seated, overlooking the valley and the mountains rising on either side.

"I miss nighttime," Dean murmurs, not sure if the angel can hear him, but Castiel raises a questioning eyebrow.

"Why?" he asks softly, fixing his tender gaze on Dean's eyes. Warmth travels through the ex-hunter and he has to look back at the sky above him that turned azure in the meantime.

"I wanna hear the silence. I miss watching the night sky, the moon. I wanna see the sun go down behind the mountains and feel the sand under my feet when it rises again."

Castiel hums in response. They fall silent for a while. Dean tries to calm his frantic heartbeat. He remembers that cartoon case and is thankful that his heart isn't able to explode here. It would, that's for sure.

"I will fix it for you, Dean," Castiel promises.

Dean chuckles. "What? You are gonna hang the moon and the stars for me?"

Castiel frowns. Dean thinks he looks adorable.

"Yes, in the literal sense," Castiel finally says and there is melancholy hiding behind each syllable that makes Dean's heart clench in a painful way.

He stretches his hand out and grabs Castiel's tightly. The angel looks at him in surprise but doesn't pull back.

Dean clears his throat nervously. He knows that he can't hold the words back that make their way to his tongue unbidden, but not unwelcome.

"You already did, ya know. Hanging the night sky for me."

He steals a quick glance at Castiel's face that shows an even deeper frown and the thin lines around his eyes that are even tighter than usual. Oh, how he wishes he could smoothen them out with kisses, see Castiel's face relaxed in the early morning hours.

"For me, you are the most extraordinary, the best being that Chuck ever created. You are exceptionally wonderful," Dean says softly. 

Castiel looks at him in shocked surprise. Dean squeezes his hand. "Do you know why I miss the night sky the most?"

Castiel shakes his head no.

"I regret a lot of things. Hell, most things I've ever done or not done for that matter. But there is one thing I really regret, that I mourn because I didn't allow myself to have it, out of fear."

"What were you afraid of?" Cass nearly whispers.

Dean chuckles without mirth. "What was I not afraid of? Being weak, being soft, being ... vulnerable. Being myself, I guess."

Castiel hums in understanding and squeezes Dean's hand before asking, "And what is it you regret?"

A soft smile dances on Dean's lips. "Remember when we drove home that night, and you told me all about the constellations?"

Castiel smiles remembering Dean's features in the moonlight, how beautiful he looked.

"I wanted to stop the car so badly. I wanted to pull you out of the passenger seat and into the wilderness. I wanted to cradle your face in my hands and kiss you under the stars."

Castiel's hand grabs his tighter and Dean wonders if Castiel's heart is racing like his own.

"I'll see what I can do," Castiel says and Dean doesn't need to look at his face to know that his lips mirror the wide grin on his own.

"Better hurry up, moon pie."

Castiel chuckles softly. "I will."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Let me know what you think. 💙💚


End file.
